


Stolen Voice

by katikat



Category: White Collar
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-02
Updated: 2010-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-08 15:38:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal's a Non-Human in a society with deep prejudices against mutants. Peter's determined to keep him out of the hands of the NCB authorities - AKA shameless protective!Peter fic ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Voice

When Hughes opened the door to Peter's office and said "Peter, you and Caffrey, my office. Now!" before walking away, Peter and Neal looked at each other in trepidation.

*What?* Neal signed with gloved hands, raising his eyebrows.

Peter shook his head. "No idea," he said before getting up and closing the files that he and Neal had been working on. "We should go and find out."

With a nod, Neal followed him out of the room and down the hall towards Hughes' office. Hughes usually tried to avoid any contact with Neal, so the fact that he came to Peter's office personally meant that something big happened - or was about to happen.

When they entered, they noticed an older blond man standing by the window. He turned to them and his sharp look settled on Neal right away. He looked Neal over, from head to toe, a wary, intense expression on his face.

Peter frowned, not liking the way the stranger was studying his partner. He knew many agents with the bureau felt uncomfortable around Neal - Hughes included - but he would be damned if he allowed anybody to treat Neal with anything but respect in his presence. God knew that Peter was aware of the way people behaved towards Neal when he was on his own, away from Peter's protection.

"Agent Fowler, this is Agent Burke, Caffrey's handler," Hughes introduced them. "Peter, Agent Fowler is from the OPR."

The men nodded at each other, but didn't shake hands. Peter disliked the man on sight and he was starting to get a really bad feeling about the whole thing. And the fact that Hughes dismissed Neal - again! - from their conversation, made his hackles rise. God, he hoped he had never been such a bigot.

"What's going on, sir?" Peter asked, perhaps more aggressively then he should have.

Feeling his annoyance and probably guessing its cause, Neal stepped closer, touching Peter's elbow soothingly. His gesture didn't go unnoticed by the other men. Especially Fowler's sharp eyes lingered on Neal's hand, until Neal dropped it and stepped away from Peter slightly.

It made Peter even more angry. Hands, gestures were Neal's only way of communication.

"Agent Fowler will explain," Hughes said, gesturing to the blond man.

Fowler stepped forward. "Agent Burke, an accusation has been made that one of the New York's high profile Chiefs of Justice is an unregistered Non-Human. We need Caffrey to confirm that for us."

Neal paled and breathed in sharply. He looked at Peter and shook his head resolutely, signing *NO* in sharp, cutting movements.

Peter knew exactly where this was headed and it made the blood boil in his veins. He raised his hands and pointed a finger at Fowler. "Let me get this straight. You get an anonymous tip about some higher up being a Non-Human and instead of abiding by the law and requesting a warrant for a medical exam, you decide what? To take a short cut through my charge?" His voice was cold and biting.

Fowler smiled, trying to appear friendly and failing. "Agent Burke, you know what a hurdle paperwork can be. We can spare ourselves a lot of time and hassle, if Caffrey simply asks her."

Neal took another step back, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. One more step and he would be out of the room.

"No!" Peter refused. "I won't let you do that. First you get the court to gag him even though it was never proven that he had used his power in any of his heists and now you want him to use it when it fits your purpose? No!"

The smile slipped of Fowler's face. His eyes narrowed and became hard. "Agent Burke, I think you're forgetting yourself!" he said in a low, threatening voice that reminded Peter of a growl. "Maybe you're losing your objectivity. Maybe you've forgotten that Caffrey is a felon and a Non-Human! Maybe a thorough re-examination of his case is in order, supervision and maybe even a new handler for him!"

Peter gritted his teeth and looked at Hughes. "And you're playing along with that, sir?" he asked angrily.

Hughes sighed and refused to look at Neal and even at Peter directly. "This case needs to be investigated quickly. If any of the felons that judge had sentenced caught wind of this, they could raise an objection, even sue!"

Peter had to take a deep breath to calm down. He realized that Hughes wouldn't help him. And if he refused Fowler's request, it would end up badly for both him and Neal, but especially for Neal. Fowler would force Neal to do it anyway and it would have consequences.

Peter gritted his teeth. "Fine," he said, feeling like a traitor when Neal started breathing fast and shallow behind him. "When and where?"

Fowler smiled smugly and Peter felt the sudden urge to wipe that smile off his face. "Half an hour. Interrogation Room Five on the second floor," he said.

Looking from Fowler to Hughes who still refused to meet his eyes, Peter nodded. "We'll be there."

With that Peter turned around and hustled Neal out of the room.

*-*-*-*

*You can't let them make me do it, Peter!* Neal signed in hurried movements. He was breathing rapidly, clearly agitated. *You can't!*

Peter closed the door to his office, sighed and rubbed his forehead. "There's nothing I can do about it, Neal, and you know it," he said tiredly. "If I refuse to comply, Fowler will bring in the NCB!"

At that Neal froze. The NCB - the Non-Human Control Bureau - terrified every mutant. Their agents looked at the Non-Humans, the politically correct term for mutants all over the US, as if they were some lower species that need to be caged and under constant supervision. Sometimes Peter still barely believed that he had managed to obtain the CI - Confident Informant - status for Neal despite the NCB's protests.

Peter sat down on the edge of the table, his shoulders slumped and hands hanging loose. He looked at Neal and felt sick seeing the horror-stricken look on his face.

He had been after Caffrey, the master thief and conman, for three years and he still remembered how victorious he felt when he finally managed to catch him. This glorious feeling was short-lived though when it was revealed that Caffrey was a mutant and instead of going to prison, the court was planning to send him to a NCB detention facility - the common place for Non-Human criminals. That Peter couldn't allow, he just couldn't - he had heard enough horror stories about those facilities to know that Neal wouldn't survive there. That wasn't a punishment, it was a death sentence. He fought like a bear and in the end he managed to secure Neal the CI status that had kept him out of the NCB's hands for almost a year now - despite the NCB's objections and his own colleagues' aversion.

*They want me to help them identify a Non-Human,* Neal signed slowly and close to his chest as if he was whispering. There was a heartbroken look on his face.

"I know," Peter answered softly, closing his eyes.

They both knew what that meant. If the judge was really a Non-Human, she would be stripped of her position and depending on the strength of her abilities, the NCB would either lock her up in a secure facility or reassign her to a menial job in some dusty backroom. Either way her life as she knew it would be over. Forever she would be forced to wear black gloves that marked all the Non-Humans for easy identification, excluding them from the human population, making them outcasts.

"If there was a way to stop this, I would do it, you know that, right?" Peter asked quietly. He needed to know that Neal knew that Peter didn't see him as an object, a second-class citizen that could be used and abused as someone saw fit. "But if you don't do it, supervision will be the least of our problems. The NCB's been after us from day one, they are just waiting for a chance to jump in and take you away. They would see your refusal as an obstruction of justice and handle it accordingly."

Neal swallowed, then nodded once. He looked so defeated that Peter reached over and patted him on the shoulder, then squeezed it tight.

*I never used my Voice on you. I swear,* Neal signed earnestly. *I would never do that to you.*

Peter smiled. "I know, buddy, I know."

*-*-*-*

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the observation room next to Interrogation Room 5. An NBC operative was already waiting for them inside. It was a young woman with dark skin and short bleached hair. She addressed Peter exclusively, dismissing Neal as everyone seemed to do.

"Agent Burke, Leticia Platt," she introduced herself. "I'm here to temporarily remove Subject #45.74.00's collar. I need you to sign this." She handed him the proper temporary release form, then turned to Neal dispassionately and held up the scissors.

Neal didn't have to be told what to do. He pulled down the collar of his black turtle-neck, revealing a half inch wide metal band that hugged his throat tight. He turned his face to the side and swallowed hard.

"I'm obligated to inform you that if you use your powers in any but the approved way, you'll be neutralized by an energy discharge through your tracking anklet and subsequently removed to a NCB detention facility where you'll remain until a court of law determines your proper punishment. Is that understood?" she asked.

Neal swallowed again and nodded.

In the meantime, Peter read the form, word for word just to be sure that the NCB didn't slip in anything irregular, then signed it on the dotted line. Then he stood there and watched as Platt inserted the scissors under the collar with less care than she probably should, but Neal just winced and held steady. She then cut the band and removed it from Neal's neck.

Neal rubbed the slightly abraded skin underneath, looked up at Peter and smiled. "Hey, Peter," he croaked.

Peter returned his smile. "Hey."

Platt frowned. "You'll speak only when ordered to. I'll make a note of this loose protocol in my report," she warned and the smiles disappeared from their faces. She touched a console on the wall. "We are ready, Agent Fowler."

In that moment, the wall on Peter's right hand grew translucent, turning from solid wall into a two-way mirror. In the interrogation room, a middle-aged Asian woman set at a table. She wasn't cuffed, but she was pale and looking around nervously. Fowler was inside with her. He turned to them, even though he couldn't see them, and nodded.

Peter knew that Fowler would have preferred to just take Neal and then return him after it was over but as Neal's handler, it was Peter's right to attend. And he would make sure to look over the NCB's shoulder just as thoroughly as the NCB looked over theirs.

"Let's go," Pratt said and motioned towards the door.

Peter nodded at Neal encouragingly, then watched as Pratt and Neal left and entered the interrogation room through a door on the right side. The Asian woman cringed when she saw Neal and noticed his black gloves.

Fowler didn't lose any time. "Ask her!" he ordered.

Neal swallowed. "Are you..." His voice broke. He hadn't spoken for almost a year.

Pratt glared at him, holding up the remote control to his anklet in her right hand. Neal took a sharp breath and stiffened. "You won't be asked twice," Pratt said sharply.

Neal turned to the woman at the table and without further hesitation, he asked: "Are you a Non-Human? Tell me the truth!"

Neal's voice resonated through the room, making the fake glass in the two-way mirror vibrate slightly. Peter felt a slight tickle in his chest and heard a distant ringing in his ears. Neal didn't insert too much power into his voice, just enough to make the woman responded truthfully.

Sweat broke on her forehead and she clamped her lips tight but in the end, she couldn't resist. "Y-Yes," she stammered, breaking down in sobs.

Fowler nodded at Pratt contently and Pratt ushered Neal out of the Interrogation Room. The two-way mirror grew dark again, cutting Peter off from the proceedings.

When Pratt led Neal inside the observation room again, Peter tried to catch Neal's eyes, but Neal refused to look at him. From the expression on his face Peter understood how devastated he was. To help the NCB get their hands on another mutant...

Pratt pulled another metallic band from her briefcase and turned to Neal. "Neck," she ordered and Neal obediently pulled down the collar of his turtleneck down. Pratt was almost as tall as Neal so she easily snapped the collar on and tightened till it lay snug against Neal's skin then sealed it.

Neal breathed in sharply as the electronic device stole his voice once again. He covered the silvery band, looking down at the floor, evading Peter's eyes.

Pratt gathered her things. "You'll receive a copy of the signed form within three days together with a copy of my report." After that she left the room without even saying good-bye.

Peter had to fight the urge to yell at her. God, he hated the NCB!

Stepping close, Peter laid a hand on Neal's shoulder. "You okay?" he asked even though he already new the answer.

*No,* Neal signed slowly.

Neal was still staring at the floor, looking so sad and subdued that Peter felt like hitting something. He remembered when he had been chasing Neal, how full of life and energy the young man seemed to be. Compared to that this Neal was just a pale shadow. And it hurt Peter on so many levels that he couldn't even believe it. And there was not a damn thing he could do to change it.

So he did the only thing he could.

"Come on," Peter said warmly, hugging Neal around the shoulders with his arm. "El's making pot roast for dinner tonight. And she baked that pumpkin pie you like so much. I wasn't supposed to tell you, but..." He shrugged.

Neal looked up at him and gave him a small smile. *Thank you,* he signed.

"You're welcome, buddy."

The End


End file.
